


The True Lies of the Fullmetal Alchemist

by AvengingHobbits



Series: Fullmetal Spies AU [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, True Lies (1994)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Comedy, Crossover, F/M, Gen, Romantic Comedy, Spy!AU, but al has his body, ed and al's mom are fine, ed still has a metal arm and leg, edwin - Freeform, i don't know how to tag here, i watch a lot of movies okay, no gate of truth, so like no cell phones or super watches i guess, still in the same time period as Brotherhood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3072251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengingHobbits/pseuds/AvengingHobbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood styled adaptation of James Cameron's True Lies,<br/>Edward Elric is a top agent for an elite group of highly trained special operatives working for the Amestrian government, and their "last line of defense". His wife however, one Winry Rockbell, thinks he's simply a mild-mannered banker.</p><p>Winry resents the long "business trips" he takes, which make it hard for him to have quality time with her. While Edward is off once more tracking a dangerous group of terrorists, he learns Winry has been seeing someone on the side—a used car salesman pretending to be a spy.</p><p>He uses his agency's resources to teach the other man a lesson—and give his wife some adventure—but when a harmless "assignment" he sends Helen on is interrupted by the dangerous terrorists he was tracking, she finally finds out what he's really been doing on those business trips.</p><p>///////////////////////</p><p> </p><p>Yeah it's another one of those fics. This is my first shot at writing for FMAB, so bare with me. Hopefully your eyes won't bleed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so since this is an AU, I feel obliged to at least explain some of the differences between this universe and the canon universe. That way you guys aren't confused.
> 
> 1\. Alphonse has his body, but Edward lost his arm and his leg in a botched mission. This is how he met Winry for the first time, as she was his automail mechanic. They got married soon after, having fallen in love during Ed's rehabilitation.
> 
> 2\. Van Hohenheim and Trisha are both still happily married, and Trisha is quite alive and well. Van Hohenheim used to work for Amestris as a State Alchemist, but retired to raise his family. He's probably still immortal here.
> 
> I can't really give anything else away here, since it's major spoilers for the rest of the story, and obviously, I don't want to ruin the fun.
> 
> I hope you guys like the story.

"Hey, Ed?"

 

Edward glanced towards his brother, who sat a few inches away, huddled in front of a rather complex array of radios and gizmos in the cramped interior of the van.

 

"What is it, Al?" Edward asked, turning back to the mix of photographs and intelligence documents that lay spread out before him on the small fold out table.

 

"How come I'm never allowed on a mission with you?"

 

Edward paused, raising an eyebrow slightly. "What? Al, you're with me on a mission right now. You always come along."

 

Alphonse shrugged, twiddling with a random knob on the radio. "No, I mean on a _mission_. Like, _in the field type_ mission. I mean, sure I come along in the van, but I never leave it. Its like a big metal body for me or something. Its kinda boring."

 

Edward scoffed. "Oh come on, Alphonse, its not that bad. Anyways, you're never the one getting shot at, so I think that's an advantage right?"

 

"The only reason you get shot at so much is because you just can't resist a fight." Alphonse replied matter of factly, causing Edward to give him a glare.

 

"That's not true! I have great self control."

 

Alphonse simply responded with a knowing look, before looking down at his pocket watch, before doing his best to stand up from his position, hunching down to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. "Better check for Ling." He muttered, as Edward scrunched up as best he could against the small fold out table.

 

"He back yet?" Edward grunted, moving back from the table and rubbing the now sore spot on his stomach as Alphonse made is way to the front seat of the van, awkwardly sliding into the seat and peering through the windows. Alphonse shook his head slightly, peeking out towards the building they were parked across from.

 

"No, I don't see him. He said he'd be back in fifteen minutes..."

 

Edward pulled out his own, lion-adorned pocket watch, popping it open with a click. "And its been twenty," he let out a sharp scoff, standing up and shuffling over to sit next to Alphonse in the front. "Typical lazy Ling. Always late." He muttered, crossing his arms and scrunching up the fur edge of his coat.

 

"Cold?" Alphonse asked, wrapping his own arms around his body, scrunching up his sweater as he did so. Edward nodded, rubbing his gloved hands together vigorously.

 

"Yes. Very much. Why they don't have heaters for cars yet is beyond me."

 

Alphonse shrugged. "I heard they're working on it in R&D. But its still very much a prototype."

 

"Prototype or not, I'd love to get this thing fitted with one." Edward replied, huffing slightly into his hands again. Alphonse shook his head.

 

"I heard it blew up one of the cars they put it in when they tested it. Probably not a good idea." He glanced down at Edward's arm. "How's your arm? Has it seized up yet?"

 

Edward shook his head. "Not yet, no."

 

There was a lull of silence between the two brothers, each of them watching the building across the street closely. The only sounds was their own breathing, the occasional huff and puff from one of them as they warmed their hands, the ticking of their pocket watches and the icy winter breeze outside the van. Snow covered the ground in a white sheet, and every once and a while, another car would glide by, and the two would tense up slightly, Alphonse's hand reaching for the key, and Edward placing his hands together. However, the cars would always move on, seemingly unawares of the van and its passengers.

 

As the watches continued to tick, Edward began tapping his foot on the floor of the van, the metallic thump ringing through the body of the vehicle. As time passed, the tapping became sharper and faster, Edward's face contorted into a grimace.

 

"Oh come on! Where is he!" He barked, throwing his hands up in the air. "What's he doing?! Counting snowflakes or something?!"

 

"No, but close guess." Came a slightly muffled nasally voice, causing both Edward and Alphonse to let out screams of terror, their arms yanking each other into a vice like hug. The lanky Xingese man standing outside let out a laugh, tapping on the window and motioning towards the lock. Edward glared at him as he unlocked the door, swinging it open with force.

 

"What's your problem Ling?! Why'd you take so damn long?!"

 

Ling shrugged. "Suppose I didn't feel a need to rush, short stuff." He nonchalantly motioned for Ed to get out of the passengers chair, which only caused Edward's grimace to reach near planet destroying levels.

 

"DON'T CALL ME SHORT STUFF!" Edward shrieked, waving his arms theatrically. "Now get in the van!" He added angrily, sharply pointing to the back of the van.

 

Ling smug expression faded somewhat, his already narrow eyes becoming like slits as he turned and walked over to the back of the van, opening the back door and slamming it behind him.

 

"Did you get the papers we need?" Alphonse asked, turning the key in the ignition, causing the van to cough to life. As he began to drive it smoothly down the road, Ling reached into the briefcase he had had slung over his shoulder, pulling out several official looking documents.

 

"Here we are," he began to leaf through them, pausing every so often to give them a quick scan. "We've got you an ID, a passport, and our briefings." As Ling spoke, he passed a set of papers forward to Edward. Another set of papers went back into the briefcase, and another was put on the small fold out table, the other photos and documents that had been sitting there before being put back in the folder from whence they came.

 

"The one's I put in the briefcase are yours, okay Al?" Ling said, putting the folder in the briefcase and folding up the table, keeping his own papers on his lap.

 

Alphonse nodded, apparently too focused on the road to answer. Edward meanwhile, carefully leafed through the papers, reading them carefully.

 

"So, first things first, Ling, what took you so long?" Edward asked, still reading. Ling shrugged slightly, reading his own papers.

 

"Was talking with our lady who gave us the information."

 

Edward rolled his eyes. "Of course you were Ling," he turned, looking behind his seat. "What were you talking about? A novel or something?"

 

Ling just shrugged again. "Nah, mostly just random things. Had to, you know. Or else someone might suspect," he looked up from his papers and smiled. "Better to make small talk and pretend like we're old friends then just bump into each other right?"

 

Edward merely lowered his eyebrows and returned to reading his paper. "Whatever. You had us worried there a for bit."

 

Alphonse nodded. "Yeah, thought someone might have found you out or worse..."

 

Ling shrugged again, his grin growing roguish. "Not my fault the ladies can't resist me."

 

Both Alphonse and Edward let out a groan, Edward actively facepalming. He let his hand flop back down on the papers before returning to the task at hand.

 

"So Central wants us to crash this Focke guy’s party? Any reason why?" He asked, paging through the documents. Alphonse raised an eyebrow, briefly glancing down at Edward's papers.

 

"Focke? You mean Vought Focke, the philanthropist right?" he paused, furrowing his eyebrows. “Didn’t we bug that place awhile back?”

 

Edward nodded. "Yeah, that one," His finger ran down the paper, carefully seeking out any useful information. "Oh here we are. Apparently Central bugged his home a few months back because he's suspected of hosting some sort of illegal arms bidding deal. But apparently they want us to sneak in and see what's going on there in the flesh."

 

Ling raised his eyebrows. "Well that explains the fake IDs," he pulled out a small card with his face, along with a name, birthdate and several other pieces of information. "Apparently, I'm supposed to be a Xingese mobster."

 

"And I'm an apparently going to be an Amestrian one." Edward added, leafing through his own ID papers. "Seems my boss doesn't like to make personal appearances."

 

"What about me then? Do I get a cover?" Alphonse asked with a touch of hope. Edward shrugged, reached behind his seat to beckon for the briefcase, which Ling nudged forwards. Edward searched through it, fishing out a bundle of papers with Alphonse's name on it. He opened them, giving them a quick scan. He frowned.

 

"No, I don't see anything special for you. Sorry, Al." He gave Alphonse a sympathetic look, and Alphonse let his shoulders sag.

 

"No, its okay. Guess I'm staying in the van again huh?"

 

Ling shrugged. "Suppose so."

 

Edward nodded, giving his brother a pat on the back. "Don't worry. Upside is that you get to sit around while we do the hard work."

 

Alphonse rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess sitting around and doing nothing has its perks," he let out a quiet laugh, before motioning towards Edward's paper. "You two better get your research done. Don't want to flub like last time with the Drachma guys."

 

Edward held up a hand. "Now hold on, Al, wasn't my fault the charges didn't go off in time. Anyways," he crossed his arms. "I wasn't the one in charge of the explosives. Ling was."

 

"Not my fault you drew an oval instead of a circle. Your alchemy is funny like that." Ling chimed in, still reading his papers. Edward let out a grunt.

 

"Whatever. Point being, this is probably going to be much easier than Drachma." He said, leaning against the window. Alphonse simply shook his head, turning onto a main road and joining the stream of traffic.

 

//////////////////////////////////////////

 

The van pulled up behind the rather simple, yet elegant hedge that separated the property of Mr. Focke’s home from the rest of the surrounding area. However, the hedge was a good ten feet high, and capped with snow, therefore preventing the trio from seeing over the edge.

 

“What do you suppose is behind that hedge?” Ling asked, peering forward from his seat.

 

“Dunno.” Edward said, “But I’m gonna take a look.” he added, popping open the door of the van and clambering up onto the roof. Once on top of the roof of the van, he looked back over the fence, greeted by the sight of what looked like a cleared out field area, where, parked in orderly lines, were prestigious looking automobiles of various makes and models, all standing out in sharp contrast to the rather plain looking van.

 

“Well, what do you see?” Alphonse asked, leaning out of the window and looking up at Edward.

 

“It looks like a bunch limos.” Edward replied, before clambering down from the roof. “I have a feeling we aren’t exactly going to blend in.” he added, slouching back into his seat and pulling his coat a little tighter around himself.

 

“So it’s some kind of parking lot?” Ling asked, and Edward nodded.

 

“Yup. Not a van in sight. They’d spot us in a heartbeat.” He answered, scanning the surrounding area for a more suitable place to park the van. As he scanned, he caught sight of several plain looking vehicles turning around a corner up ahead. Printed on the side, in large, colorful letters, were the logos of various food catering companies.

 

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Edward asked, a smile spreading across his face. Alphonse looked at the other vans, nodding his head and smiling.

 

“Yeah."

 

"Of course!" Ling chimed in. "I'm starving!"

 

Edward narrowed his eyes. "No. Time to make ourselves blend in.”

 

With that, the two brothers opened their respective doors, stepping out onto the opposite sides of the van. Grabbing a nearby stick off the ground, Alphonse quickly drew a simple transmutation circle, before going around again to double check it.

 

“Okay, we’re good.” Alphonse said, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a pair of simple white gloves, upon which were inscribed transmutation symbols. Edward nodded, mimicking the action and pulling out his own gloves.

 

Rubbing their hands together, they both clapped their hands, before placing them on the sides of the van. There was a flash of light, and when it cleared, printed on the side of the van, in bright red letters, were the words “Mignogna’s Food and Drink”

 

“Yeah, that looks good.” Edward said, proudly crossing his arms. He was quick to hop back in the van along with Alphonse.

 

“Ready Al?”

 

Alphonse nodded. “Ready.”

 

“Then let’s do this.” Edward replied, motioning for Alphonse to start the car again. They pulled away from the main road, following after the other vans as they went around the back of the mansion. Edward hoped that they would be able to slip past the guards, but his hopes were dashed when one of them, a lanky fellow with glasses, waved him down to stop.

 

 _Okay, time to improvise._ he thought, nodding slightly at Alphonse, who cleared his throat.

 

“Is this going to take long?” Alphonse asked, turning to the guard and doing his best to appear innocent as the guard regarded him. “This stuff won’t keep forever, you know.”

 

“Sorry for the delay,” the guard said, producing a small list. “But your... company doesn’t appear to be on the list of caterers Mr. Focke scheduled for this event.”

 

“Oh, he must have forgotten then,” Edward said, chiming in and smiling wildly. “It was a last minute arrangement and all. We did speak with his party planner on the phone, however.”

 

The guard narrowed his eyes, lifting an eyebrow slightly and flashing his lamp into the van just as Ling pulled the curtain across, covering the back.

 

“What’s behind the curtain?”

 

“Our chef. He’s really busy right now.” Alphonse responded, once more smiling widely. The guard, however, did not seem convinced.

 

“I’m going to need to see some identification,” he said. Alphonse and Edward exchanged a glance before the elder brother shrugged.

 

“Okay, fair enough,” he said, reaching into his pocket to appear as if he was searching for ID. “I’d just hate to see how Mr. Focke reacts when we don’t show up on time. I mean, I’ve heard he’s willing to listen to reason, so maybe we can get him to go easy on... what’s your name again?”

 

“Miranda.” The guard answered after a pause, his voice having lost it’s prior sternness somewhat.

 

“Well, like I said, it’d be a shame,” Edward continued, shaking his head slightly. “We catered his last party at his summer home, you see, and well, suffice to say that gators tend to enjoy the taste of security guards.”

 

The guard’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and he was quick to flick his light off and motion for them to continue.

 

“My sincerest apologies, you may continue on your way.” he added hastily. Alphonse gave an exaggerated thumbs up, and the van drove forwards and through the gate. Edward glanced in the rear view mirror, watching as the figures of the guards grew smaller.

 

“That was lucky of us.” Alphonse said, giving Edward a glance as the van came to a stop. “I take it you’re gonna keep this caterer bit up?”

 

Edward shook his head. “Only just until we get inside. Then me and Ling will use what Central gave us.”

 

“Okay then,” Alphonse said, turning the van off and heading towards the back. “I’ll get the radio ready just in case I have to call Central.”

 

“Sure thing.” Edward said, pulling asides the curtain and motioning for Ling, who had hadn’t said a word since they disguised the van. The duo quietly stepped out of the car, heading to the large back door that stood open, allowing several dozen employees and caterer’s entry.

 

With their heads looking downward, the two entered the building, giving each other one last nod before they went their separate ways. Edward made his way towards what seemed to be the kitchen, where a nest of shouting and yelling kitchen staff greeted him. He ducked behind a large meat locker, shedding his heavy jacket to reveal a now slightly wrinkled tuxedo underneath. He clipped on a bow-tie, and without another word, slipped out of the kitchen and into what seemed to be a large ballroom.

 

Dozens of wealthy looking people in fancy outfits walked back and forth, filling the air with their chatter. Across the room, atop of what looked like a temporary stage of some kind, was a small orchestra, which filled the room with the lilt of pleasant mid tempo music.

 

 _Let’s hope they change things up and play something we can dance to,_ Edward thought. He would have continued on, but was stopped when he felt a hand placed on his right shoulder.

 

“Um, sir?” Edward turned around and saw who he presumed was the head chef, looking rather confused. “Is there something you need?”

 

“Yes, actually.” Edward noticed a large spread of food off to the side and made his way over to it. “I was just curious as to what you were thinking trying to serve something like this.”

 

“Sir-”

 

“No, I don’t want to hear another word about it.” Edward snapped, cutting the man off with a wave of his hand. “Get rid of it all before Focke finds out how badly you screwed up.” the chef paled, but began shouting orders as Edward walked off.

 

It probably wasn’t the most productive thing to do, but anything that threw his targets off was just fine in his book.

 

“Oh hello General! It’s been so long!” He chimed, grabbing the hand of a random passer-by and giving it a sharp shake. The General responded with a slightly confused look.

 

“Uh-er-Same to you?”

 

Edward simply smiled broadly, theatrically bowing down and turning away--

 

\--and face first into a tall woman.

 

It took most of Edward’s coordination to keep from tripping over his own feet as he stumbled back. Mentally he cursed himself for not paying better attention to his surroundings as he shook his head, smoothing out his tuxedo, hastily apologizing.

 

“So, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

 

“Oh please, it’s all my fault,” Came the lady’s response, her voice smooth as silk. Edward looked up at her, his eyes widening at the sight.

 

She was a tall, raven haired woman with pale white skin, her red lipstick standing out like blood on snow. She was in a sequined purple dress that went all the way up to her neck, and her eyes were half-lidded, and she gazed down at Edward with a palpable sense of attraction.

 

“I will admit though,” she chuckled smoothly, sliding a bang of hair out of her line of vision. “Don’t you think you should get to know a girl better before you stick your head in her chest?” she gave him a smolderingly seductive smile, and Edward could have sworn he was beginning to get hot under the collar.

 

“I-Uh...yeah, yeah of course. It was very rude of me to do so, I apologize.” he stammered, running a hand through his hair awkwardly.

 

“Apology accepted darling,” The Lady said, extending a black gloved hand in greeting. “I’m Solaris Bailey. Might I ask who you are?”

 

Edward shook the hand rather stiffly. “I’m Aaron Dismuke.”

 

“Aaron, hm? A fine name, if I’ve heard one.” Solaris replied, her smile widening slightly. She smoothly lifted a champagne glass off a passing waiter’s tray, taking a brief sip from it. “Tell me, Aaron, what’s a handsome fellow like you doing in a place such as this?”

 

Edward smiled, his confidence returning as he puffed his chest out slightly. “Well, I myself am here on business with Mr. Focke.”

 

Solaris smiled. “Small world. I am here to do business with Mr. Focke as well. I’m an antiques dealer, here to peruse some of our fine host’s antiques from my home country.”

 

Edward raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Home country? And where would that be?”

 

“Ishval. I’m set on opening a museum dedicated to it in Central.”

 

“Really? Doesn’t Central already have a museum?”

 

“Well, there’s always room for expanding, isn’t there? A businessman of your stature would understand that, wouldn’t you?” Solaris gave a small smirk. “And after all, sadly, Amestris is sorely lacking in museums dedicated to foreign lands, and I, being Ishvalan, am at an advantage in procuring such treasures, and bringing their beauty to the world.”

 

Edward nodded. “Makes sense, I’ll admit.”

 

Solaris nodded her head, before once more running her eyes over Edward’s body. “I feel it’s only just that I ask you what you’re doing here. I take it you’re here for the antiques too?”

 

“Well, I’m actually--”

 

“Dismuke? Aaron Dismuke is that you?!”

 

Solaris and Edward turned in the direction of the voice, and Edward’s shoulders sagged somewhat at the sight of Ling, striding over with a big grin on his face. He reached out a hand, grabbing Edward’s hand and pumping it sharply, giving him a sharp slap on the shoulder as well.

 

Edward let out a stifled groan. “Hello…” He trailed off, raising an eyebrow slightly.

 

“It’s me! Mitsubishi! Mitsubishi Nakajima! Remember? From Xing?” Ling replied briskly

 

Edward paused for a moment, internally kicking himself for not reading Ling’s documents before going in. However, he felt Solaris’ hand gently come to rest on his shoulder for a moment.

 

“Excuse me, but who is this?” She asked, arching an eyebrow and giving Ling a critical eye. Ling however, didn’t miss a beat, instead giving Solaris a roguish smile.

 

“I’m very sorry, my dear lady, I failed to introduce myself,” he bowed briefly before extending a hand in greeting. “I’m Mitsubishi Nakajima, and I’m a business associate of our mutual friend, Mr. Dismuke.”

 

Solaris glanced towards Edward, who quickly smiled and nodded.

 

“Of course, how could I forget!” Edward said broadly, grabbing Ling’s extended hand and giving it a violent shake. “How are you my friend, how are you?” He then lowered his eyebrows, keeping the smile on his face. “What brings you _here_? I thought you were _busy_ with _important_ matters of business.”

 

Ling let out a laugh, before shaking his head and looking back at Solaris. “I must apologize Miss--?”

 

“Bailey, Solaris Bailey.” Solaris replied, her expression still critical. Ling gave a nod.

 

“Miss Bailey, but I sadly must take your friend from you for a moment. We have an important business matter to discuss.” As he spoke, Ling discreetly tugged at Edward’s arm. Edward glanced down at the arm, before giving him a slight nod.

 

“Oh, yes, I apologize Solaris, I’ll only be a minute.” he said, giving Solaris a sympathetic look. Solaris, on the other hand, merely looked miffed, before giving Edward a barely perceptible nod.

 

“I suppose I can’t interfere with your business. Here, take my card...” as she spoke, she leafed through her purse, pulling out a crisp, white printed card and leaning forward to wrap Edward in an unexpectedly intimate half hug, slipping the card into Edward’s hand. “Call me anytime.” she whispered in a husky voice, causing Edward to feel a wave of warmth flow through him. He took the card dumbly, giving her a slight nod with wide eyes.

 

“Uh, I, um, will…” he muttered as she smiled and walked away, sashaying in a seductive manner.

 

Ling’s eyes followed her as she walked away, before sliding back to Edward. A sly smile spread across his face and he raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Making time with the ladies I see…”

 

Edward, who was still somewhat entranced with the mental image Solaris’ body movements, blinked briefly as he came back to reality. “What?” he asked, and Ling motioned in the direction Solaris had went. Edward’s eyes widened slightly and he started to shake his head.

 

“What? No, no, no. We were just talking I swear.”

 

Ling merely nodded theatrically, the grin on his face getting bigger by the second. “Whatever you say, pipsqueak.”

 

Edward tensed up, gritting his teeth at the sound of the name. “Don’t call me _pipsqueak_.” he growled, crossing his arms in a huff. “Now, is there a _real_ reason why you interrupted my conversation with Ms. Bailey? Or do you just have a supernatural compulsion to annoy me?”

 

Ling simply shook a finger. “Sadly no. I’m actually here to tell you I found out where our gracious host’s office was. He apparently just finished a meeting with someone, and now he’s talking with a big Ishvalan dude. They’re right over there.” he motioned towards the east corner of the ballroom, where, indeed, there was the tall, lean figure of Mr. Focke, and a tall looking Ishvalan, apparently discussing matters of business.

 

“Where’s his office?” Edward asked, keeping his eyes on Mr. Focke. Ling pointed towards a small door on the other end of the ballroom.

 

“I think it’s upstairs. I couldn’t get a better look, but see that door?” Ling motioned across the ballroom to an ornate door with the words ‘library’ embossed in golden lettering above it. “That’s where Mr. Focke came out from with the guy he was talking with. Stands to reason that his office somewhere on the other side of the library right?”

 

Edward nodded “Why don’t you check it out then? Follow the hunch?”

 

Ling shook his head. “I tried, but the guards gave me a funny look when I did so. Anyways, I’d stick out like a sore thumb if I did. At least you're an Amestrian, so they probably wouldn’t notice you. I for one, would be spotted in an instant.”

 

Edward looked at Ling flatly, causing Ling to let out a huff of frustration.

 

“Look, at least this way, one of us can keep an eye on our host,” he motioned to Focke again. “While the other does some snooping.”

 

“I’ll go check it out then.” Edward muttered, turning away from Ling and heading towards the staircase. he wound through the crowd carefully, his eyes occasionally darting to check on any guards who were scattered throughout the crowd of party goers. Apparently, Ling’s hunch was right, and none of them seemed to notice him, allowing him to reach the door and open it without a problem.

 

He quietly slipped into the unexpectedly luxurious library that was on the other side. His footsteps were muffled by the soft carpet, which was a rather eye catching zebra pattern, which stood out in near eye-popping contrast to the blood red walls of the library.

 

Lining the walls were bookcase after bookcase, and the room stretched upwards a good two stories, books on the second floor accessible by a spiral metal staircase, and by what looked like some sort of small elevator. On the second floor, in the far corner of the room, was a discreet looking door. The library was conspicuously empty however, but various sounds and muffled voices could be heard coming through the walls from the party outside. Edward started towards the staircase, clambering up the stairs briskly.

 

 _Let's see what's behind that door,_ he thought, briefly pausing to glance over his shoulder and back at the entrance to the library. So far, he was still the only person inside. Returning his focus on heading to the newly discovered door, Edward reached for the knob, giving it an experimental jiggle.

 

 _Locked, damn it._ He reached into his pant pocket, fishing out a small black wallet. He opened it to reveal an array of various lock picks. He pulled one out, leaning down to begin carefully picking the locked door.

 

"Come on now, cooperate here..."

 

_*click*_

 

A sly grin spread across his face. "Bingo."

 

He gently eased the door open, giving the library entrance one last cautionary look before slipping past the newly opened door. He found himself in what looked like the second floor foyer, which now had marble floors. Hanging on the walls were various fancy looking paintings, which were complemented by equally elaborate statues and potted plants.

 

 _Geez, this guy lives in a palace._ Edward thought in wonderment, moving through the room to the other side. The sounds of the party ebbed from the floor below and up the staircase, the music having changed to a graceful waltz. A brief peak over the banister revealed that everyone was dancing now, which would hopefully give Edward some additional time to continue his search for the office.

 

Edward crossed his arms, tapping a foot lightly as he scanned the foyer. He started down a hallway, carefully searching for any potential hidden doors or passageways. He passed a simple wooden door with gold lettering on it, at first not paying much heed to it.

 

 _Wait a second._ He backed up, looking back at the wooden door. His shoulders slumped and eyebrows lowered at the sight of the plainly stenciled text.

 

" **OFFICE** "

 

A quick roll of the eyes and fishing of the lock picks out was followed by another few minutes hunched down, carefully picking the lock. The door popped open, and Edward slipped through, gently closing it behind him.

 

Focke's office was an almost underwhelming affair, being a simple room with a single bookcase, a large oakwood desk, and a leather backed chair. Sitting on the desk were various assorted trinkets, mostly things like miniature replicas of automobiles or cannons. Edward didn't waste any time moving to open the desk's first drawer, which was lacking a lock. It contained just a few writing implements, such as fountain pens, a few pencils, and an ink well with spare paper. He closed the drawer, moving to the second one, which did have a lock.

 

He pulled out the lock picking kit, and was just about to start picking it when the sound of a doorknob jiggling caught his ears. His entire body froze in place as the sound of muffled speech started to filter through the walls.

 

 _Damnitdamnitdamnitdamnit_ Edward hastily stuffed the lockpick kit back into his pocket, frantically searching for someplace to hide. The door knob was already starting to turn, so with no other option, Edward dove underneath the desk, curling up his body as compactly as possible.

 

The sound of the door opening was the first to reach Edward’s ears, followed by carpet-muffled footsteps….

 

//////////////////////////////////////////

 

“So, you wanted to speak with me?” Focke asked, walking over to his high backed leather bound chair and sitting down, leaning back slightly.

 

“Yes, I did, Mr. Focke,” Came the sharp response, the voice coming out as a strange, off-putting mix of male and female.

 

Focke arched an eyebrow. Sitting in front of him, seemingly impatiently waiting for something, was a rather short, lean looking individual, whose face was an angry grimace, with eyes that seemed to drip with venomous contempt at everything they caught sight of. His hair seemed to match his wild eyes, sprouting off his head in a way not unlike a palm tree, with bangs sticking out at various angles. The only thing seemingly keeping them in check was a black headband, which complimented (in it’s own bizarre way), the black, sleeveless tank top and shorts he wore, which left his midriff conspicuously bare. On his arms were a pair of near elbow length fingerless gloves, and his fingers were currently intertwined in a steeple.

 

“I wasn’t lucky enough to get your name?” Focke asked, keeping his eyebrow raised critically. The figure in front of him shook a finger in a condescending manner.

 

“Tsk, tsk, Mr. Focke. _I’m_ the one asking the questions here.”

 

Focke let out a displeased grunt. “That’s awfully bold of you, friend. Considering you’re in _my_ home, and _my_ office.”

 

The other man simply scoffed, looking around the room. “Oh please. You wouldn’t even be throwing such a disgustingly elaborate party if it weren’t for us.”

 

Focke narrowed his eyes. “How so?” he asked coldly, steepling his own fingers and leaning forwards slightly. The androgynous man scoffed again, hopping out of the chair unexpectedly and striding around the room, his bare feet moving silently along the carpet.

 

“Well, suffice to say that we’ve had a pronounced interest in your scientific and technological endeavors for quite some time.” He ran a finger along a bookshelf as he spoke, as if inspecting it for dust.

 

Focke raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

 

The man looked at Focke and smiled unsettlingly wide, his teeth looking more like a set of steak knives. He let out a raspy laugh, looking back at his fingers and rubbing them together gleefully.

 

“Yes, really. After all, we know your weapon has many, many potential uses, and, well, we just like staying ahead of the curve.”

 

Focke raised his eyebrows. “Oh. Are you a representative of the buyer?”

 

The man snapped his fingers, spinning on the balls of his feet with a clap of the hands, a broad, dementedly manic grin on his face. “Bingo! We have a winner!”

 

Focke exhaled sharply. “Why you simply didn’t explain yourself from the beginning instead of leading me on this pointless roundabout conversation is a mystery to me.”

 

The other man scooped a random trinket off the desk and sat back in his chair with a pomf. “You humans,” he let out a raspy snicker. “Always so inpatient. Don’t know how to enjoy themselves.”

 

“I do know how to enjoy myself,” Focke replied, leaning back in the chair again. “But now is a time for business, not pleasure.”

 

The other man continued to fiddle with the trinket, but gave an acquiescing nod. “Fair enough.” he slapped the trinket back down on the desk with a clack. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together and setting them on the desk. “Down to business then. They wish to know if the weapon is ready for shipment.”

 

Focke simply raised his eyebrow again, nodding his head slightly. “Yes. Yes it is.”

 

The other man grinned the same disturbing grin as before. “Oh, excellent. When can we expect it to arrive in our possession?”

 

“As soon as your payment is made.” Focke replied simply, taking notice of how the strange man’s grin faded noticeably. Focke took the opportunity to shake his head slightly. “I’m sorry, but it’s a long held policy of mine to only give the product over once I’ve received payment. That way I know I’m not being swindled.”

 

The other man’s eyes narrowed to viper like slits, and he slowly brought his hands back to his lap. “Very well then. Your payment will arrive tomorrow.” With that, the man slid up out of the chair, and into a standing position, puffing his chest out slightly.

 

“Might I ask you a question?” Focke asked, continuing to eye the mysterious man suspiciously. The man looked down at him, his eyes carrying a flicker of disdain.

 

“What is it?”

 

“You’re not the usual messenger from the buyer. As such, I feel obliged to at least know your name. I feel it’s in my best interest that I remain familiar with anyone I’m speaking with.” Focke then smiled. “For future reference.”

 

The other man was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing. A smile spread across his face, but his eyes betrayed vile hatred. “I have many names, my friend, but for now, you may call me…” he paused, bearing his teeth again. “Envy.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“I have many names, my friend, but for now, you may call me...Envy”

Crouched underneath the desk, now practically sweating buckets, was Edward, who listened to the conversation happening above him with rapt attention. So far, they’d been too absorbed in their conversation to notice him, but several times, Focke’s feet would randomly shift out underneath the desk, with Ed having to scrunch up even more impractically against the front panel of the desk, all to avoid being noticed.

_I swear if he kicks his legs out like that one more time I’ll scream._ He thought, glaring at the leatherbound shoes that Focke was wearing.

“Well, Mr. ‘Envy’” Came Focke’s voice, and, just as Edward feared, the shoes came flicking outwards. With a sharp intake of breath, Edward scrunched up, barely missing them. “I suppose our meeting is complete then.”

Edward started to relax as the chair moved back and Focke moved to stand, distancing himself from Edward’s now sore body. In the process of moving the chair back however, a small cloud of carpet dust formed, sending a lone dust bunny to lightly bounce onto Edward’s nose. Edward tensed up, holding his breath tightly as the dust bunny came to rest right over his nostrils, just as the second voice began his response.

“Yes, well--”

“A-choo!”

Edward felt his blood run cold at the sound of his own sneeze. The coarse androgynous voice of the ‘Envy’ fellow coming from above halted mid sentence. Edward tensed up, his breathing coming in quite, sharp pants as he saw Focke’s boots take a slight step back.

“Someone just sneezed.” Came Envy’s voice, taking on an icy tone.

_Well, so much for subtlety._ Edward let out grunt as he rolled over, slapping his gloved hands together just as Focke and Envy looked under the desk, causing the entire floor to practically vaporize and send the desk, and the three of them plummeting straight down....

....and onto one of the large, food covered tables that were on the far ends of the ballroom. There was a strange, painfully awkward span of silence as Edward let out a long, pained groan as he dragged himself out from the wreckage of the heavy oakwood desk. He could feel his left side throbbing in pain, and his right arm hanging limply at his side.

He shook his head several times, his vision clearing as he turned around awkwardly to get a better sense of where he was. He was greeted by the site of dozens of party goer's shocked expressions at the sight of the destroyed table and desk. Edward gave a shy, over compensating smile.

"Uh....evening folks! Sorry to drop in."

The sound of pained grunts and raspy expletives greeted Edward's ears, and he glanced over his shoulders to catch a sight of spiky, palm tree like frons moving from underneath the debris.

_Shit._ Without a second thought, Ed spun on his heels and scampered as fast as his legs could carry him. He could already hear the strange, uncomfortably androgynous voice of that Envy fellow shrieking like a demon for the guards to capture him. The guards responded dutifully, one emerging out of the gaggle of party goers with arms spread wide. Edward ducked down, tumbling and rolling along the carefully waxed dance floor, causing the guard to slam into a grey haired man and his date, the trio sprawling to the floor.

"Sorry! Pardon me!" Edward rapidly said, bumping and shoving his way into the crowd in an attempt to lose the now rapidly growing horde of guards swarming behind him. Edward's eyes darted about, desperately trying to find where the hell Ling had disappeared to.

_Whereareyouwhereareyouwhe--THERE YOU ARE!!!!!_

Edward's eyes narrowed and he gave a sharp smile as he spotted the ponytail and smug grin that was Ling Yao's calling card. He seemed to be distracted by the young, seemingly easily impressed vixen who gazed on him as if he were made of porcelain.

"So, I was thinking we could make some free time at the---" Edward didn't give Ling a chance to finish whatever it was he was saying, as he reached out and wrenched him away from the girl, dragging him behind him like a sack of bricks.

"What the hell, Ed?! You trying to amputate my arm or something?! Didn't you see I was talking with someone?!"

"Less flirting, more running!!!!" Edward barked back, looking over his shoulder again, with Ling mirroring the action. Ling's eyes, which were normally narrowed, opened noticeably.

"Oh, it seems you've made yourself some friends, Ed." He added cheekily.

Edward simply rolled his eyes. "Yeah, the welcoming committee is just great around here, hardy-har-har. Now let's just focus on getting the hell outta here."

"Do you happen to have a _plan_ about getting out of here perchance?"

"Get out of here, get to Alphonse, then I suppose we improvise."

"Sounds good enough for me. Now keep up shorty!" Ling replied, speeding up his pace as Edward growled in frustration as he tried to keep up.

"DON'T CALL ME SHORTY!!!!!!!"

The two agents were now running as fast as they could, leaving the ballroom behind and weaving and dodging through the labyrinthian interior of Focke's mansion. Surging behind them, like a relentless pack of dogs, was the cadre of guards, lead by the thin androgynous fellow from Focke's office. Every so often, a guard would pull out his pistol and take a shot at either Edward or Ling, but they all only managed to hit either the walls or the artwork lining walls, from paintings to statues. Edward grabbed a random bust of some random old person, flinging it behind him with his good arm, sending it crashing in the face of a guard, causing him to topple backward and take three of his companions with him.

"Ha! Score!" He cheered, hopping into the air with triumph before hitting the ground again running. Up ahead, promising freedom, was a window showing the outside world. "Over there, Ling! An exit" Edward called out, and Ling nodded, reaching into his jacket to pull out a small orb with a short cable coming out of one end. With a yank of his teeth, the cable popped loose, and a billowing cloud of gray smoke came fizzing out. Without slowing his stride, Ling chucked the orb forward, and it hit the doorway with a deafening bang. There was a flash of light and a billow of smoke, which quickly cleared, revealing that the window was blown open.

Both Edward and Ling waisted no time leaping through the broken window, landing in a large snowcovered rose bush that ran underneath the window.

They both let out a yelp of pain at landing in the thorn coated flowerbed, before dragging themselves out of the bush and running as fast as their respective legs could carry them to the lines of vans and trucks that were catering the party. Edward looked over his shoulder, and let out a groan of frustration at the gaggle of guards who were pouring out of the large hole in the window, lead by the palm tree headed wacko from Focke’s office.

“Split up! Split up!” Edward barked, and Ling gave him a nod, leaping to the side and bounding gracefully over one of the trucks and vanishing between them.

Edward simply shook his head at the sight of Ling’s leaps and bounds, and gave a grumbling look down at his left leg, it’s metal making sharp, loud cracks against the ground beneath his feet as he ran. He dodged into the nest of catering automobiles, weaving through them as best as possible Behind him, the sounds of the guards had faded, instead replaced by just general distant sounds of commotion and shouting as they desperately tried find the trail again.

_I think I lost them!_ Edward thought, a large, smug grin breaking out on his face. Now I just gotta find out how to get to where Al parked an--

“WHOOF WHOOF”

Edward’s head whipped around at near lightspeed, only to be greeted by the pointed nose of a doberman pinscher flying into his face, teeth bared.

“GAAAAAAAAAAH---OOMPH” Edward threw his hand into the air, grabbing the neck of the doberman just as it impacted him. He felt his boots loose footing on the snow covered stone, and he and the dog went sprawling sideways wildly, his left leg making a loud metallic crack against the stone and going limp.

The dog wasted no time violently trying to maul Edward’s damaged automail arm off, growling and biting at the metal like a rabid animal. Edward meanwhile, grunted as he tried to keep the dog’s teeth on the metal arm, and not on his face. He gave the dog a sharp punch to the side with his free hand, causing it to grunt. However, it still held on stubbornly, paws scraping and jaw biting as Edward gave him a sharp kick with his good leg. That seemed to do the trick, causing the dog’s jaw to open in a yelp of pain, which Edward used as an opportunity to roll away and drag himself to his feet.

It was then that he noticed his left leg wasn’t moving. _Oh. Of course. It breaks **now.**_ Ed limped away as fast as he could, looking over his shoulder to make sure that the dog was not coming after him. The dog had recovered quicker than he had expected, charging towards him and covering the distance between the two faster than he had anticipated.

Just as his opponent lept forward, there was a burst of smoke, and Ling appeared, clapping his hands together. Not to transmute, but his timing was right that both hands collided with the animal’s head at high speed, dropping it to the ground like a sandbag. “Stay,” he ordered, crossing his arms smugly as the dog looked on with a dazed expression.

“I’m assuming you found where Al parked” Edward hissed, leaning up against a catering truck. Ling simply motioned in the direction from where he jumped.

“Yeah, he parked about five or six cars down. Come on let’s go,” Ling motioned, already deftly spinning on his heels. Edward hobbled after him, grunting in effort as he tried to move the heavy metal that was now merely dead weight.

Ling halted mid step, noticing Edward’s hobble, and with a role of his barely visible eyes, he darted over and scooped Edward up.

“Jeez, Ed, how much does that automail weigh?!” he groaned, his eyes bulging open as he tried to loft Edward over his shoulder.

“Less than your ego! Just get us to the van!”

“Alright, alright buddy, don’t bust a gut,” Ling replied, dragging Edward along with him through the labyrinth of cars and trucks.  

_We might actually make it!_ Edward thought, grinning again as the sight of Alphonse’s van came into view.

And that’s when the gunfire started.

***BANG* *POW* *BOOM***

A hail of bullets exploded around them, with Ling and Edward whipping their heads around only to be greeted by another hail of bullets.

“Down!” Edward barked, dropping off of Ling’s shoulder as Ling followed suit, the two starting to crawl along the ground as the sound of gunfire and shouting filled the air. They crawled along, ducking their heads as bullets bounced and pierced metal and glass above their heads. Apparently the guards had decided to forgo all pretentions at capturing the duo alive, and were now content to just perforate their bodies with bullets.

“Over there!” Ling barked, pointing towards Alphonse’s van, which had avoided any damage so far.

“Run for it!” Edward shouted back, bolting to his feet, and, with a series of grunts and huffs, hopped on one leg towards the van, the bullets landing around him in a flurry of noise.

He reached out with his good hand, grabbing the handle of the back door and practically ripping it off as the door swung open, Edward using his inertia to swing around the door and use it as a shield.

“Ed what happened?!” Alphonse shouted, dropping down to the floor as a hail of bullets splattered against the armored sides of the van.

“Shut up and help me get in!” Edward shouted, and Alphonse scampered over, grabbing Edward’s arm and dragging him inside the van. Coming up on Edward’s heels, and panting as if he’d just ran a mile, was Ling, who rapidly scampered inside the van and slammed the door.

“DRIVE KID! DRIVE!” he yelled, and Alphonse nodded, clambering and stumbling over the seats and sliding into the drivers seat, starting the engine and slamming his foot onto the gas petal, sending the heavy van lumbering forward with all the grace of a wild elephant, sending another car parked next to it keening over.

“Let me guess, they found you guys?” Alphonse asked, worriedly glancing in the rearview mirror as he spun the van around to head back the way they’d come. Outside, the sharp metallic snaps of bullets on armor continued to ring out, as the van lurched and swung about wildly.

“Ye-HOMPH-yes they did!” Edward replied, rolling and tumbling around in the back of the van as he desperately tried to grab onto something solid with his good arm. Alphonse bit his lip, his eyes darting between the road and the rear view mirror.

“Did you get any information at least?” he asked, seemingly noticing how limp Edward’s prosthetic arm was. Edward nodded, dragging himself to the passenger’s seat and awkwardly sliding in.

“Something about some sort of super weapon or something. We’ll have to do more digging, but I know that Focke is going to met with someone named ‘Envy’ from the IRF to trade the weapon.”

“IRF?” Ling asked from the back, apparently fishing for some sort of weapon to deter the now small platoon of cars following behind them. “Aren’t they that Ishvalan group of radicals?”

“I think so. Honestly, all these wackos share the same acronyms.” Edward grumbled, rubbing his side in pain as he tried to relax, despite the van’s constant lurching and heaving as crashed through a hedge and finally reached the main road and accelerated away from the house. The cars which were following them weren’t so lucky, as they tried to dodge the hedge and just ended up causing a massive, wildly chaotic pile up.

There was a lull of silence as the van drove off into the night, Alphonse still worriedly glancing in the rearview mirror.

“Are you hurt, brother?” He finally asked, glancing worriedly at Edward’s limp arm. Edward glanced down at it, before shaking his head slightly.

“Nothing I haven’t had before. Maybe a bit of bruising from when I blew the floor out--”

“You blew a floor up?!” Alphonse shouted, his eyes bugging out. “Where?!”

Edward waived his good hand dismissively. “I was stuck in Focke’s office and had to make a quick escape, Al.”

“By blowing the floor up?! No wonder they found you!” Alphonse groaned, briefly face palming.

“Hey, at least I got the information and didn’t die!”

There was a pause as Alphonse and Edward simply looked ahead at the road, both with a shared look of frustration. Neither of them looked at each other, with Alphonse ruefully tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, while Edward slipped his gloves off and began tapping his fingers on his lap.

“All I know is that this is going to be a pain to explain to the superiors.” Ling muttered, slumping into the rear passenger seat and letting out a long sigh.

“Yeah...guess it will be.” Edward muttered, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing the simple golden ring on his finger.

****  


////////////////////////////

****  


Winry rubbed the simple gold band on her finger worriedly, looking back up at the clock on the wall for what felt like the two hundredth time from her chair by the kitchen table.

“Winry, are you alright?" Winry turned to the kindly woman standing behind her. Her face was concerned, with her brown hair in a loose ponytail that hung over her shoulder. “You’ve been staring at the clock all evening."

Winry let out a laughing sigh, rubbing her forehead slightly. “I'm sorry, Trisha. Just waiting for Ed."

Trisha smiled warmly, which radiated gentle reassurance. "Don't worry, he'll be here."

"He'd better," Winry grumbled, before catching herself and letting out a terse sigh. "He said he'd be back four days ago. I practically had him swear that he was sure he'd finally get here tonight." She paused, rubbing her temple slightly, "I swear, if he calls about 'extenuating circumstances' again..."

Trisha gave her a sympathetic look. "I understand, dear," she quietly sat down in the opposite chair from Winry, quietly looking on as Winry spontaneously shot to her feet, grabbing the ratty looking toaster that sat on the kitchen counter. Winry reached into the pocket of her dress, pulling out a well used philips screwdriver.

"If you keep fiddling with that, you'll just make it worse," Trisha said, standing up from the chair and walking over to Winry, who had started aggressively tightening various screws along the body of the toaster.

"It was always crappy," Winry replied sharply.

"Have you tried exchanging it?" Trisha responded, motioning towards the other kitchen equipment, which was noticeably higher quality than the toaster.

Winry paused, her expression going from frustrated to sadly nostalgic. "Ed bought it," she said, brushing a bang of her hair behind her ear. "He got it for me on one of his trips." She cracked a slight smile. "I guess I didn't want to hurt his feelings by tossing it out. I've spent two years giving it improvements, maybe this will be the last screw for it and I can buy myself a new one."

She abruptly set the toaster down with a sharp clank, her expression growing worrisome again. She sighed, long and hard as she leaned close to her friend, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I wouldn't even mind it so much if it weren't for everyone else..." She nodded her head at the kitchen doorway which lead into the parlor, where a clutch of various people milled about, chattering in buoyant tones.

"They were all so happy about this and helpful-" Winry continued, "I mean do you know how much it took for all of them to just drop everything in the middle of a working week to throw this party? The decorations, the food and the presents," she looked away at a random point on the wall. "They hardly let me do a thing." She added with a sober expression.

Trisha gave Winry a half hug. "Oh don't worry yourself, they'll understand. We've all been through this with Ed before."

Winry shook her head. "But not like this! Not on this scale!" She chucked her screwdriver onto the counter. "There's at least twenty people out there who took time out of their day for him!"

"Well he doesn't know that..." Trisha countered, but her voice lacked conviction. Winry bit her lower lip, her eyes starting to water.

"But shouldn't _I_ be enough? Is the fact that I'm here, waiting for him enough?" She groaned slightly, turning away from the counter, idly wandering around the kitchen. "I mean, I know his job is important, I understand that he has to travel a lot--heaven knows my work at the automail shop keeps me pretty busy--and its not like I don't trust him, I know that he isn't that kind of a man...it's just--" she slumped into the simple wooden chair sitting next to the small kitchen table, "--the amount time he spends away..." She rubbed her forehead ruefully. "I just feel sometimes that he's married to his work, and I'm just some punch-clock job he has to do, or a random hobby to squeeze in. I'm his wife, for heaven's sake, I shouldn't feel like I'm wasting his time!" Winry's shoulders sank, and her hands moved up to rub her eyes as tears began to well up.

Trisha walked over and pulled up the other chair, sitting down and laying her hand on Winry's back.

“Winry, you know that's not true. Ed loves you, everybody can see it.” She smiled warmly. “Subtlety is not his strong suit, after all."

Winry blinked the dampness in her eyes away, looking up at Trisha, and gave a small smile. "No, it’s not..." She looked down at her wedding ring, her smile growing. "He made that clear when he proposed to me!"

Trisha nodded with a laugh. "Shouting in a train station!"

Winry nodded, covered her blushing face and growing grin. "The whole station turned to look at us!" She let out a laugh. "Some guy missed his train because of that! It was so embarrassing." She sighed, the memory bringing a group of equally happy memories along with it, causing her tears to dry and smile to grow, her fingers idly reaching to her ear to run along the trio of simple earrings she wore on one ear.

"And then there was the time he bought me my earrings. Said that he didn't know which one would fit, so he got them all..." She laughed, shaking her head with a smile on her face. "Silly Ed..."

The sound of loud, clanking footsteps caused both Winry and Trisha to flinch, shattering the quiet intimate air in the kitchen. The two turned to see a somewhat short, dark skinned girl bluntly walk over to the fridge, “Hey, Winry, what’s keeping you?” she asked, swinging the door open and gazing inside. “Ah! There’s a beer!” she chuckled, reaching inside and taking a beer can in her hand and popping it open. She took a sip, closing the fridge, spinning on her automail heels to look at Winry with raised eyebrows.

Winry blinked for a moment, but Trisha spoke first. “We were just talking, Paninya dear, that’s all.”

Paninya shrugged slightly. “Well, not to be rude, but everybody was wondering what happened to you. Maes already dragged out the baby pictures, Alex is flexing and I barely escaped with my life." She paused, a look of concern crossing her face. "You look kinda blue, Win. Everything okay?”

Winry simply smiled back with a shrug. “Yeah, everything’s okay, just needed a second to relax. Tell them I’ll be right there.”

Paninya nodded, giving Winry a supportive smile. "Okay then." She turned to leave the kitchen, but halted in the doorway. "Oh! I saw Edward at work today. He doesn't suspect anything!" She gave a broad grin as she stepped out, leaving Trisha and Winry alone in the kitchen.

Trisha turned back to Winry, gently motioning to the door. "I'm pretty sure you'll be able to enjoy things a little more out there then alone in here." She said sweetly, standing up and motioning for Winry to follow. Winry gave Trisha a quiet nod, standing up and following after the older woman, and back into the party going on outside.

****  


//////////////////////////

****  


Edward let out a long, deeply exhausted sigh as he drove up his driveway, parking the car. It had been an exhausting, long winded day. He'd finally arrived back in Central, automail limbs damaged, and in need of repair. His whole body had been aching and groaning all the day long, protesting the previous evening's wild shenanigans.

_At least I'm home,_ he thought, grunting as he awkwardly reached over to the back seat to grab the pair of crutches that had been sitting there. He had been lucky enough to get his arm repaired, at least for now, but the leg, for reasons that eluded him, wasn't as cooperative. Apparently, at some point during the wild helter skelter at Focke's mansion, one of the gears caught a piece of piping, chewing it up and jamming the entire assembly.

_Pretty darn sure Paninya just wants to stick another cannon in it or something..._ Edward mused ruefully, awkwardly limping his way from the driveway to the front door. As he limped, he vaguely noticed that all the lights of the house were off.

_Maybe Winry already went to bed?_ He thought, sleepily grabbing at his pocket watch to check the time. _Midnight? Already? Blegh...._

He found himself yawning at the mere idea of it being that late, as the past few days really began to catch up with him and make him feel more tired by the second. By this point, he was pretty much half asleep, groggily reaching into his pocket to fish out the house keys. He sloppily jammed the key into the lock, muttering curses under his breath as he realized it was upside down. He tried a second time, managing to get it into the lock properly, and jiggled it open with a click.

_Maybe Winry made apple--_

"SURPRISE!!!!!!!!"

The sudden explosion of light and noise sent Edward into a tizzy, the crutches flying from under his shoulders as he instinctively threw himself to the ground, yanking the small lever on his automail arm as he did so, and with a mechanical wurr, the barrel of a gun popped out of the forearm, with Edward firing off a shot in a panic.

The round, however, merely hit the ceiling, and Edward blinked dumbly at the sight of at least eight people in various stages of shock. Standing in the middle, face as white as a sheet, was his wife, Winry Rockbell. Lying at her feet, now a splattered mess of chocolate, was what appeared to be a cake of some kind.

"Ed! Your leg!!" Paninya blurted out, being the first to recover from the shared shock and rush out of the group to help him up into a sitting position. "What did you do to it?!" She admonished in an over dramatic manner, slapping the gun back into his arm and giving him a withering look.

"Paninya you--"

"I can't believe you broke it again!!!!" Paninya cut him off, “Especially after all the work I put into it!"

"Paninya, why are you in my house? Why is everybody in my house?" Edward sputtered, giving Paninya a deeply confused look as he was helped over to the dinner table, where, hanging rather limply, was a banner. ' **Happy Eighth Anniversary** ' it said in sunny lettering. Edward was plopped down into a chair, blinking in confusion as his tired brain tried to make sense of what was going on.

"It's your anniversary silly!" Paninya chimed, giving him a sharp jab in his good arm. "Or did you _forget_?"

Edward stammered, looking at Winry, who simply stared at him, her expression difficult to discern. He gave her a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh....sorry?"

Winry visibly tensed at the words, before taking a deep breath and putting on what was obviously an overcompensating smile.

"It's alright, darling...at least you're here." She walked over, giving him a terse hug, and then turning to the rest of the group, who hadn't said a word.

"Sorry everyone for the scare. I'm sure Edward didn't mean it, now did he?" She looked back at him, her eyes critical. Edward stammered again, still rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uh, yeah. Super sorry. I just--uh--didn't expect any of..." He awkwardly motioned to the party decorations that decorated the dining room. "Any of this. Kind of caught me off guard."

"Oh don't worry yourself, Edward," Trisha replied warmly, gently gliding over and giving him a hug. "The important thing is that you weren't was hurt," she continued, giving Winry a look that seemed to say _Don't worry yourself_ as she stood up.

"Now, Winry spent all working to set this up, so why don't we all just sit down, and I'll whip up some nice treats since the cake is...out of commission. How do brownies sound?"

There was a general sound of agreement from the group from everyone except Edward, who was still trying to sort out the past five minutes in his head, and Winry, who was obviously angry. Trisha beckoned for Winry, motioning towards the kitchen, and Winry gave Edward a final look before following after her. Edward merely rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel the eyes of everyone standing around him steadily boring into him to varying extents, before the sound of a record player started up, and some swing music began to waft through the room, and everyone soon shifted into the standard cliques of conversation that most parties came with.

Edward looked around at the group, his brain finally managing to catch up with his eyes and properly process who was there.

In the corner, having run down Roy Mustang, was Maes Hughes, happily describing every little detail in a series of baby pictures he held in his hand. Standing a few feet away, holding said baby which was now asleep, was Maes' wife Gracia. She gently speaking with another lady, Riza Hawkeye, who would occasionally look down at the sleeping baby with a happy smile.

In the corner where the record player was, idly hovering around each other and talking about something or other, was the quartet of Havoc, Falman, Fuery and Breda.

A few feet away from them, seemingly discussing work-out regimens or something, were the hulking forms of Alex Louis Armstrong, already having disposed of his shirt, and Izmui's husband Sig. Izumi, who stood next to Sig, leaned up to whisper something into his ear before heading for the kitchen, managing to give Edward a withering look as she passed.

"Son?" Edward glanced in the direction of the voice to see his father, his glasses sheened over with lamp light, discreetly pulling up a chair and sitting down next to him. Edward let out a mild grunt.

"What?" He asked, tiredly rubbing his eyes with his good hand. He could pretty much predict the next thing out of his father's mouth with certainty. Probably a shop-worn admonishment about being too distracted with work or something along those lines.

"I just wanted to say that, while I understand full well that your job is important--"

"I shouldn't be preoccupied with it. I know, Dad, I know." He let out a drawn out sigh. "It's just..." He let his hand drop from his face and idly begin to twiddle with a rather garish party napkin sitting on the table. "I feel that I'm doing what's best for us in the long run." He lowered his voice, throwing a cautionary glance towards the kitchen, where the sounds of Winry, Izumi and his mother discussing the minutiae of brownie baking could be vaguely heard over the music and small talk.

Van Hohenheim raised his eyebrows slightly. "You do?"

Edward nodded. "Yes I do. I want her to be safe and sound, here in Central. And if that means I have to spend my time hopping from country to country, following leads and stopping the bad guys, well then okay then. Just like you did." He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair slightly.

Van Hohenheim nodded slightly, his expression rueful. "Son, I--"

"Just stop right there, okay?" Edward shot back, cutting Van Hohenheim off mid-sentence. "You're the last person who should give marital advice, okay? You were never home. You always had 'work' to do, some place far away. So don't give me any of that crap, because you're just as guilty as me, alright?" He then reached for the crutches bitterly, lurching himself up onto them and limping towards the stairs.

"Ed? Where are you going?" Ed halted at the sound of Winry's voice. He turned around slightly, shaking his head tiredly as he let out a long sigh.

"I'm just tired, okay, Honey. I really need to rest." A brief look at Winry made it plain that she was trying her best to hold in tears. A razor sharp stab of guilt shot through him, and he was quick to divert his eyes and start to heave himself up the staircase, grunting as he did so, leaving the group behind in total silence.

****  


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****  


Winry mutely stared at the staircase, saying nothing as Trisha discreetly took he brownie pan from her hands and laid it on the table. She gave Winry a gentle hand on the shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” she said quietly, “I’m sure Edward didn’t mean to forget like this.”

“But it’s the second year in a row...” Winry mumbled, looking down at the floor with a sigh. “I-it’s like he doesn’t even care.”

“Don’t say that, Winry,” Trisha turned Winry towards her before continuing. “Edward does care about you, even if it looks like he just gets distracted. I assure you of that.” Trisha silently motioned towards Van Hohenheim, who nodded discreetly before beckoning the rest of the party goers towards Winry

Most of them nodded in agreement, each walking up to Winry and giving her a sympathetic look and an apology.

“Do you need help cleaning up?” Trisha asked, and Winry silently shook her head.

“Nonsense, we’ll help you clean,” came a male voice, and Winry glanced over at Maes Hughes, who was already starting to pick up the dishes with his wife. “Least we could do after all the work you put in.”

Winry gave a smile, shaking her head slightly. “No, really everyone, I can handle it”

“Most certainly not!” Came a deep voice, as Alex Louis Armstrong moved to help move the table. “The art of party clean-up has been passed down through the Armstrong line for generations! It would be outrageous for us to abandon you in your hour of need! Here,” he picked up a chair and sat it down in front of her. “Have a seat, my fair lady.”

“No, really, I should help…” Winry replied as she was sat down in the chair as the rest of the party goers began to pick up plates, tablecloths and cups.

“Winry, you’ve done more than enough,” Izumi countered, a stack of dirty plates in her arms. “Just relax and let us handle everything. You look exhausted anyways.”

Winry felt her shoulders sag slightly, but she merely nodded. Now that she was sitting down again, her legs felt like led, and her eyelids were heavy.

She was tired.

So tired.

****  


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****  
  


“If there’s any way I can make this up to you, please tell me,” Winry began as Trisha and Van Hohenheim stood in the doorway, grabbing their coats.

“Nonsense, Winry,” Van Hohenheim said, giving her a warm smile. “Helping to clean up is the very least Trisha and I could do for you. Your thanks is enough.”

Winry merely nodded slightly. “I know, but--”

“Winry, don’t worry yourself,” Trisha kindly said, already having slipped her simple looking shawl over her shoulders. “You worked so very hard today. You’ve earned your rest.” She leaned forward, giving Winry a motherly kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, and be sure to get a good night’s sleep.”

By this point, Van Hohenheim had opened the door and was standing on the front porch. Winry merely nodded, and Trisha started out the door, waving as she and her husband walked away. Winry waved back, closing the door and locking it.

Once it was locked, Winry let out a long, exhausted sigh as she flicked off the hallway light. She started towards the stairs, her eyes tiredly taking in the dining room, which still had the banner hanging from the ceiling. Winry paused, reaching up as best she could to pull out the push pins holding it in place. Once it was down, she folded it, walking into the kitchen and setting it on the counter. She’d figure out what to do with it in the morning.

She then shuffled up the narrow staircase, her eyelids growing heavier by the second. Winry slowly opened the door to her bedroom, silently watching as the thin sliver of light from the hallway crept across the floor, up the bed, and onto the far wall. Seemingly asleep on the bed, his yellow hair sticking out at awkward angles, was Edward, who seemed to be completely unconscious.

Winry let out a sad sigh as she walked into the bedroom, the door opening more to let more light in. As she walked, her eyes drifted to the small vanity sitting to the left of the bed, where several dozen photographs of varying quality and size were pasted, crammed and pinned to it. She moved over to it, sitting down silently, glancing at the reflected image of Edward’s sleeping body in the mirror. She’d skipped a day of work, instead spending it in the kitchen, carefully cooking and preparing for the party.

A part of her wanted to get up, and give him a good whack with a wrench for what had happened earlier that evening. Instead, she simply shook her head.

_What good will that do? It’ll just make him grouchier. And then where will you be?_ she picked up a cloth, using it to wipe of the small amount of faded make-up she’d put on earlier in her anticipation. It now looked rather garish, and she wiped it off without much fanfair. She then reached into her hair pulling out the hairpin nestled in it, and picked up her hairbrush, beginning the lengthy process of brushing her hair.

Her eyes went to the pictures, either out of a sense nostalgia or simply as a distraction was unclear. There was one from one of their dates, one from their wedding, and another from their honeymoon. Almost every single one showing her and Edward together, all smiles.

Eight years. They had been married for eight years. Her mind drifted back to the first time she’d met Edward, her hand having stopped in it’s task of pulling the brush through her hair...

****  


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****  


It had been a foggy morning, and Winry, then just seventeen, had been working, as always, in her grandmother’s automail shop. Outside, a rather roughed up car had pulled--or more accurately _crashed_ \--into the curb, right next to the large light pole that sat on the corner.

Winry remembered looking up from her work to see a short, yellow haired kid who looked no older than she was at the time, step away from the car, angrily muttering under his breath. He’d stomped up to the shop, the automail of his arm hanging limply on his shoulder in an almost comical way, shouting for a mechanic.

“What happened?” she remembered asking, leaving her work behind and walking up to him.

“I said I need a mechan--” The blond boy halted mid sentence as his eyes met hers. “--ic.” he finished, his gold eyes widening slightly.

Winry blinked awkwardly for a second, taken aback by his eyes and how golden they were, before nodding slightly. “I-er-I’m a mechanic.”

The boy blinked. "You are?"

Winry nodded.

“Er... Right, yeah, mechanic.” the boy shook his head and gestured over to his limp arm. “So...uh, yeah, my arm got busted up by..." He trailed off, his eyes drifting to the car for a moment. "Something.” He finished, his expression vaguely evasive, as if he'd just told a lie.

Winry nodded slightly, deciding not to pry too much. She hefted up the limp automail to inspect it a little better. "It's so beautiful!" She gasped as her eyes widened at the surprisingly intricate and well made automail. It seemed to have several small compartments built into it, the contents of which were a mystery to her. “And you just had to break it didn't you?!?!" She barked, angrily shaking the limp automail in her hands.

“Hey, it’s not my fault that it broke!” the boy shot back, taking a step back and raising his good hand in protest.

Winry scoffed, motioning to several dents and scratches in the metal. “Well, if you weren’t so short sighted and actually took care of your automail-”

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING SHORT?! WHAT AM I, A TINY LITTLE MITE OF RICE THAT YOU COULD SMASH WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT?!” the boy screamed, flailing his arms wildly before wincing in pain as his heavy, limp automail twisted awkwardly.

“Ow... need to stop doing that..." He muttered, before looking back at Winry. "Look, if it’s too much trouble for you, I can go find a different mechanic.” He turned around and started to walk back to the doorway.

“No, don’t!” Winry called out, causing the boy to halt and glance back over his shoulder. Winry stammered for a second, her fingers awkwardly fidgeting with her oil stained apron. “I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you short. I just meant to say that the automail really looks like it needs a bit extra maintenance is all." She gave him a shy smile, which made his expression soften. "And you probably don't want to waste time looking for another shop, so why not let me take a look. Not to boast, but we're the best automail shop around, so you could probably do worse things than letting me take a look at it.”

There was a pause, and Winry felt a blush steadily creep across her face as time shuffled by awkwardly. The boy's eyebrows arched slightly, and he gave a slight shrug.

“Guess you do have a point there." He turned around, walking over to a stool that sat next to a work table, sliding onto it and propping his automail onto the work table. There was a brief pause before the boy motioned to his arm. "Well? Go ahead. You said you were the best, right?"

Winry blushed and nodded rapidly, grabbing her tool box and plopping it on the work table. She reached for the large magnifying glass, swinging it over the automail and began her inspection.

“Sorry I yelled at you earlier,” she apologized humbly. "I tend to get a little carried away with this kind of stuff."

The boy gave a slight chuckle. "Yeah, I can't blame you really about that," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I tend to get yelled at a lot, so whats one more?"

Winry felt herself smile at his tone, feeling her cheeks heat up again as she glanced his way again. _Get a hold of yourself, Winry! He's just a boy, nothing more!  But a really cute boy…_

The boy tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "Did you say something?"

"What? No!" Winry replied, biting her lip and hoping that the burning in her cheeks wasn't a massive blush. She returned to her work, trying to distract herself from the obvious fact that the boy hadn't taken his eyes off of her. She mentally scolded herself, returning her focus to the automail in front of her. It appeared that, asides from some scuffs, scratches and small dents that seemed to mostly wear and tear than anything else, the real cause for the malfunction was that a few bits of metal and a spring had been dented enough to dislodge one of the joints, a relatively easy fix.

"My name's Ed by the way," he spoke suddenly, causing Winry to raise an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" She asked, looking at him with a slightly confused look. The boy smiled, a rather lopsided, awkward affair.

"I said my name is Ed. Edward Elric." Winry noticed a visible blush blossom on his cheeks. "I mean, might as well right?" He chuckled slightly, obviously feeling awkward. "After all, you're fixing my arm up, might as well tell you my name right? No use being rude."

Winry smiled shyly. "I'm Winry. Winry Rockbell." She coyly extended a hand in greeting. Edward took it, giving it a slight shake.

"Winry? Thats a pretty name."

****  


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****  


The memory faded away as Winry pulled her nightgown over her head. She let out another sigh, feeling the day's labors catch up with her as a feeling of exhaustion swept over her. She quietly started to the bed, pausing as she took in Edward's sleeping form. By now, he was snoring away, his hair still a spiky mess. He looked genuinely exhausted, his eyes nearly obscured by heavy bags. He stirred slightly as Winry gently slid under the covers and reached her arm around him.

"Goodnight, Edward," she whispered, and Edward muttered in response, his hand reaching to clutch hers, seemingly on reflex. Winry could have sworn her heart melted slightly at the feeling of his hand holding hers. She felt her frustration evaporate, and she gave him a loving smile, leaning over to give him a kiss on the corner of his snoring mouth.

"Love you." Came Edward's half asleep response as he shifted slightly in bed, a rather dopey smile spreading across his sleep addled face.

"Love you too." She whispered with a smile, tiredly laying her head alongside his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh sweet jesus, I'm so sorry this took so long.
> 
> Life has been a total mess, so updating ANYTHING has gotten a lot harder.
> 
> But anyways, ya second chapter.
> 
> I pray to god everything is working and everybody is in character so far, that's my biggest worry.
> 
> And don't worry, I'm not splitting Ed and Winry up. I ship them like FedEx, and the whole darn point of this is that they stay together. Doesn't mean I can't make them work for (lord knows the anime did).
> 
> But yeah, please, leave your thoughts/constructive criticisms if you can. I live for that.
> 
> Hopefully the next update won't take three months :P


	3. Chapter 3

The air was clear and crisp, the sun just beginning to peak over the horizon as the two automobiles came to a halt facing each other next to the large frozen lake. Next to one particular luxurious looking sedan was a large, starkly utilitarian truck with a bland, dark green paintjob. Across from those two vehicles, and tilted visibly to one side, was another truck, which had a faded red paintjob.

The doors of the red truck popped open, and out stepped Envy, bundled up in a heavy overcoat, his breath coming out in billowing clouds of smoke. Next to him stood a duo of Ishvalans, seemingly acting as security.

The doors of the limo now popped open, and out stepped Focke, muttering as he ruffled his coat and stomped over to where Envy was standing.

"Why good morning Mr. Focke." Envy sneered, giving the grumpy man a razor sharp smile.

"Why in heaven's name are we in this freezing wasteland, Mr. Envy? Why couldn't we met someplace closer to civilization?"

Envy snorted. "After last night? I think we can do without a few more mansions getting smashed up." His smile faded. "Don't you think?" His tone became darker and more piercing, arching an eyebrow sharply.

Focke let out a grumbling sound of acquiescence. Envy gave another disdainful scoff.

_Stupid humans..._ He mused, watching as Focke motioned to his own guards, who nodded and marched over to the green truck. Envy watched as the back doors swung open, as the duo struggled to heft the large crate which was in the back. Several heaves and grunts later, the crate was finally out of the truck, as one of the men stepped back inside and pulled out a hand truck and preparing to move the crate towards Envy.

"As promised, the Rabbit's Foot." Focke said plainly, motioning towards the crate. Envy nodded, striding over to the crate. He motioned towards one of his Ishvalan companions, who reached inside his jacket and pulled out a crowbar. Envy motioned to the crate, and the Ishvalan nodded, jamming the crowbar under the lid and beginning to pry the lid off bit by bit.

Once the Ishvalans had pried off the lid of the crate, Envy stepped forward to inspect its contents. As his eyes darted back and forth, a feral smile crept over his lips. “You do good work, Focke,” he said, looking back up at the man. “It’s everything that I asked for, and then some.”

“I do pride myself on efficiency,” Focke said, before his scowl returned. “Now, on to more pressing matters. I’m still waiting on those last payments you owe me."

“Don’t worry about it,” Envy said, giving a dismissive wave. “I’ve been asked to make sure you’ve been well taken care of.” With that he turned back to his car, giving the Ishvalans the slightest of nods.

Several gunshots later, and only Envy’s men remained.

“Load everything back on to the truck,” Envy said, already turning back to the car.

"What about the bodies?" One Ishvalan asked, and Envy simply motioned towards the expanse of white.

"I don't care, dump them in the lake for all I care. I have more important things to handle right now then some corpses." He slammed the door shut behind him, leaving the two Ishvalans to drag the bodies to the lake.

****  


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***brrrriiiinnnngggg! BRRRRIIIIINNNNGGGG!***

Winry’s eyes creaked open, just in time to see Edward blindly reaching his hand out towards the small (yet abhorrently loud) alarm clock that sat on the nightstand by the bed.

“Goddamn it,” he grumbled, slapping the top of the clock with his metal arm, causing the alarm to cease suddenly with a metallic crunch. He then buried his head under the covers, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. Winry merely responded with her own mildly annoyed groan, tightening her caress around his waist.

“What time is it?” she muttered into his ear, rubbing her face alongside his bare shoulder.

“Too damn early.” Edward muttered back, shifting himself around so that his face was facing hers. Winry let out a slight giggle at the sight of his exhausted face stretched into an almost childish look of frustration.

“Well morning to you too, sleepyhead,” she giggled, moving a hand to brush a bang of Edward’s wild hair out of his face. He simply smacked his lips and smiled sleepily, reaching over with his automail and pulling her close. She snuggled up against him, soaking up the warmth and peacefulness of the moment.

It was these intimate, quiet moments, usually in the first few moments after waking up, that Winry treasured. They weren’t much, granted, but they were some of the few instances that they really got to have alone time. Edward’s erratic work schedule and near constant travel, coupled with the chaotic work at the automail shop that Winry tackled daily meant that, for most of the time, they simply didn’t have the time to really be alone.

But they still had these moments, quiet and simple, and they were wonderful.

Of course, it seemed the universe always conspired to undermine these moments more or less, as a shaft of bright morning sunlight shot through one of the curtains and directly into Edward’s face. He let out a rumbling groan, dragging himself upright in bed. His shoulders slumped, and Winry sleepily looked up at him, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“I suppose sleeping in this morning just isn’t going to happen, huh?” she asked, sliding up to lean her head against his shoulder. Edward shrugged.

“Yeah…” his eyes drifted towards the other clock, a simple one hanging from the wall. He let out a long, almost defeated sigh, rubbing his forehead. “Is it really that late?”

Winry glanced up at the clock, nodding slightly. “If you consider 7 AM to be late, then yeah,” she paused, looking back at Edward. “Why? Do you have to go to work?”

Edward nodded, rubbing his face. “Yesh…” came his muffled response. “I got to be there in 30 minutes…” He started to shift himself out of bed, muttering something about “damn jet lag” while Winry looked on. Her eyes widened slightly when they caught sight of the large, black and blue bruise that stretched across his side.

"Ed, what happened to you?" she asked worriedly, causing Edward to blink and glance down to where she was staring. His eyebrows rose slightly, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck.

"Oh, the bruise? Uh--well," he stammered slightly, his eyebrows scrunching up. "I think it was at the train station."

"Train station?" Winry repeated, her eyebrows furrowing. "How did you get a bruise like that there?"

"I fell," Edward replied, grabbing the pair of crutches perched by the bed as he lifted himself up out of bed. "It was really late, and there was this puddle and I slipped and fell." He gave her a warm smile, but felt like overcompensating. "That's how I broke my leg too." He smiled thinly, biting his lower lip. "Sorry."

Winry shook her head, getting out of bed and giving Edward a hug. "Its alright. Just be more careful. Please?"

Edward nodded. "Of course. Do you think I like hobbling on crutches?"

Winry let out a snicker. "Oh I don't know, you break your automail so much I really do wonder sometimes." She let her arms hang around his neck for a moment before letting them slip down as she turned to the bathroom.

Edward hobbled after her, his crutches thumping on the floor. He paused in the doorway of the bathroom, watching Winry brush her teeth, a pensive look on his face. Winry glanced up at his reflected image, raising an eyebrow.

"What is it, Ed? Something bothering you?"

Edward opened his mouth briefly before closing it, his eyebrows lowering slightly. "Erm, it's about last night--"

Winry shook her head. "It's over, Ed, don't worry--"

"No, I was a real jerk, I mean, you and everybody else worked really hard to set all that up and I just acted like a moron--"

"Ed, really, it isn't your fault--"

"But it is, Winry! I want to make it up to you," Edward countered. "I mean, it was our anniversary. The least I can do to make it up to you is, I don't know, take you to dinner tonight? Is that okay?"

Winry stopped, her blue eyes fixed on his reflected golden ones. Her eyebrows raised slightly.

"Take me to dinner?"

Edward nodded rapidly, his smile rather lopsided and awkward. "Absolutely. Anywhere you want."

Winry's expression was serious as she turned off the faucet and turned to properly face Edward.

"Are you sure? You don't have anything planned tonight?" she asked, a touch of hope in her voice. Edward responded with a slight shrug and nodded.

"Even if I did, I can ask to have somebody else take over for tonight." He put his hand on Winry's shoulder. "And you'll have my undivided attention. You'd like that?"

A gentle smile spread across Winry's face and she practically yanked him into a crushing hug. "Yes!" She beamed, looking at Edward with happy eyes. "When should I get ready?" she asked, running a finger through her hair.

"Seven maybe? Whenever you get out of work is fine with me," Edward replied. Winry beamed again, pulling him back into another hug, which caused the crutches he was using to lose their grip on the floor, causing the two of them to crash to the floor in a clatter of arms and legs, with Edward awkwardly on top of Winry.

"Oops," Edward murmured meekly, causing Winry to let out a giggle and give him a quick peck on the nose.

"Its okay," She replied smiling, squirming out from underneath him and helping him regain his footing. "You go get ready. Sooner you get out of work, the sooner I," she leaned in to whisper into his ear. "Can have you all to myself." She gave him a kiss right on the lips, causing him to tense up and blush. She then pulled back, ruffling his hair as she spun on her heels and started digging for her day clothes, leaving Edward with a twitterpated look on his face.

****  


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****  


Alphonse stepped up to the front door of Edward's house, and promptly gave the door a quick knock. There was the sound of shuffling footsteps, and the door opened to reveal Edward, who was just slipping on his red coat and had the big briefcase he used for documents under his arm.

“Come on, we’re gonna be late.” he muttered, hobbling awkwardly down the porch steps and towards Alphonse’s car. Alphonse gave Edward a worried look and followed close after.

“You sure you don’t need help getting to the car?” he asked, and Edward merely shook his head.

“I’m not _helpless_ , Al; just crip-- _inconvenienced_. Besides, today should be a slow day, right?”He replied sharply in response. He reached for the car door, practically yanking it before the handle halted, causing him to lose his balance. Alphonse tried to catch him, but only managed to find himself dragged down the ground alongside Ed and landing on the ground with a plop.

"Left the door locked." Alphonse admitted with a weak smile, fishing the keys out of his pocket as he stood back up and unlocking the door. He leaned down again, helping Edward back on his feet and helped him slide into the passengers seat, stuffing the crutches and briefcase in the backseat.

"Why didn't you take the van?" Edward asked as the engine started and the car drove down the road. Alphonse shrugged.

"I told you, I'm in that thing all the time. Its stuffy and like a big-"

"Suit of armor, I know," Edward interjected, giving a slight nod as he looked around the interior of the car. There was a lull of silence between the two, as Alphonse and Edward both awkwardly stared at the road ahead.

"I noticed Winry wasn't there to say goodbye," Aphonse began tentatively. "Is everything okay?"

Edward shifted in the seat. "Uh, yeah, sure. I'm taking her out to dinner tonight, if all goes well."

"Dinner sounds nice," Alphonse replied, nodding his head slightly. He glanced towards Edward briefly before continuing. "Sorry about not showing up at the anniversary party, but Cassandra was having a litter and it kinda took a little longer than expected."

Edward gave a mild nod of acknowledgement, his face pensive. "That's okay..." he trailed off, his expression growing noticeably more rueful.

"You okay?" Alphonse asked, glancing towards Edward. Edward shook his head ever so slightly, awkwardly shifting in his seat.

"I made her cry." He finally answered, leaning pensively against the window. Alphonse's eyebrows rose slightly, and he let out a sigh.

"Any reason why?"

Edward was silent, his eyes looking out the window in an elegiac manner. Alphonse gave a slight nod.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," he said sympathetically, giving Edward another glance. "If it's any consolation, I think you and Winry go great together. Just in a bit of a rough patch, that's all," he then cracked a smile. "And considering you don't have a black eye or any other injuries, I'd say all is forgiven."

"But--" Edward sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I feel I have to do something to make up for last night!"

"Then what are you going to do?"

"Thinking of dinner after work. Just the two of us. Someplace nice and quiet. I mean, it's not much, but she seemed open."

"Well see, there you go. Problem solved. Just don't make a big deal out of it. She already forgave you, so you don't need to keep beating yourself up over it, or then you get all moody and depressed. Cheer up."

Edward sat up a little more in the passenger seat, nodding slightly. "Okay, Mr. Marriage Counselor. I'll take your advice and cheer up. Happy?"

"Yes. Yes I am."

****  


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****  


Now finally at Central, Edward sat in Paninya’s rather cluttered workshop, and winced as the wrench tightened the final screw for his automail leg, sending a burst of pain up his leg.

“Jeez, that have to be so tight?” He muttered, only to be greeted by Paninya giving him a flat look as she tucked the wrench into the pocket of her cargo pants.

“If you don’t want it to fall off, then yeah, it does.” she stood up, dusting herself off as she walked over to the worktable, where another half assembled piece of automail sat. There was an awkward pause as she fiddled with it, tightening a screw here, lubricating it there. Edward sat in pensive silence as he watched her work, the same concentrated look that Winry often had when she was working on automail back at home.

“Hey, Paninya,” Edward started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, idly kicking his legs in the air as he tried to form the right words. “I just wanna say thanks for covering for me last night.”

Paninya paused, glancing over her shoulder. “Cover for you? What do you mean?”

Edward let out a murmur, sliding out of the chair and standing up, taking a moment to adjust to his leg. “You know, when I…” he trailed off, looking up at the ceiling. “Made a scene.”

Paninya raised an eyebrow slightly before shrugging. “that’s okay. I’m not the one who shot a hole in the roof of his own living room. Anyways,” she reached over for a screwdriver, practically stabbing it into whichever screw needed tightening. “It’s the least I could do. Winry really worked hard on that party, and nobody wanted to see it go to waste."

Edward could already tell Paninya was still bitter about last night, if by the increasingly harsh way she tightened the screw was any indication.

_I'd better go._ He started towards the exit of the workshop, clearing his throat slightly.

“Just so you know, I’ll be taking Winry out to dinner tonight. You know...to make it up to her.” he stuffed his hands into his pockets as he heard Paninya’s chair squeak as it spun around.

“Really? Where?” she crossed her arms. “It’s going to be someplace nice right? Not some cheap place?”

Edward nodded. “Yes, Paninya, it’ll be someplace nice. I haven’t decided where it’ll be, but it’ll be nice.”

Paninya’s expression brightened and she gave Edward a thumbs up. “Great!” she glanced towards the exit. “Oh hey, Ling. What is it?”

Edward turned to see Ling standing in the doorway, giving Edward a concerned look.

“What?” Edward asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Roy wants to talk to us. Says he has a few choice words about what happened on our mission.”

“Oh you mean the one you all totally screwed up on?” Paninya asked, a knowing smirk on her face. Both Edward and Ling gave her a glare, to which she merely smirked back, raising her hands. “Hey, I’m not the one who squealed okay, it was Breda, I swear.”

Edward let out a grumble, turning back to Ling. “So Roy wants to talk to us?” Ling nodded, motioning for Edward to follow. Edward shook his head. “Fine. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can be done with it.” He sullenly stuck his hands in his pockets and followed Ling out of the workshop.

****  


////////////////////////////////

****  


Roy Mustang sat behind his desk, fingers clasped together as he glared at Edward and Ling with a look that was best described as simmering rage. “Your job, Mr. Elric and Mr. Yao, was to enter Focke’s mansion, and then find out any information you could, as discreetly as possible. Nowhere in that description was anything about blowing holes in floors, crashing down into the middle of a ballroom, or leading a small armies worth of guards on a wild goose chase.”

Ling opened his mouth. “Yes, I understa--”

“No, apparently you don’t.” Roy shot back, and Ling clamped his mouth shut and sunk back in his chair slightly. “To put it simply, you two failed spectacularly. No excuses.”

“Well, what about that little creep that was leading the chase. The palm tree guy?” Ling ventured, crossing his arms ruefully.

Roy raised an eyebrow. “What ‘Palm Tree Guy’?”

Ling motioned towards Edward. “Ask Edward. He met him first.”

Roy raised his eyebrows slightly, and his gaze shifted towards Edward. "Well, Fullmetal?"

Edward let out a deep sigh, rubbing his forehead. “There was this little guy, I don’t know, 5’8” or something. He had dark green hair, and it was done up like a palm tree."

"Is that all?” Roy asked rather incredulously. “Please tell me you have a better description."

Edward shrugged. "I don't know, he was funny looking. Kinda like a really manly girl or a really girly guy. You know, funny looking."

Roy nodded slightly, but Edward could tell he was unconvinced. "I see. I'll be sure to put out a memo with that description.”

Edward let out a frustrated huff. “Well what about that Bailey lady? I mean, everybody else at that party was obviously linked to Focke in someway, since he’s got fingers in pretty much every single criminal pie there is, and the intel we were given said he was auctioning off something anyways. I mean, she has to have some sort of connection to someone, or else why would she be there?"

That finally got a vaguely positive reaction out of Roy, as his eyebrow cocked noticeably. “'Miss Bailey'?"

Edward nodded. "Yeah. Tall, dark--pretty much black--hair. First name was Solaris. Said she was Ishvalan, and she ran an antiques shop, and--”

“Really?” Roy asked, cutting Edward off mid sentence. He unexpectedly stood up, beckoning for Edward and Ling. “Come with me. I have reason to believe you may have actually found out some valuable information.”

‘Really?” Ling asked, springing up out of the chair. “What kind.”

“This Solaris Bailey you met apparently has ties to the IRF, who had sent a representative to Focke’s party."

"Wait, IRF?” Edward stammered, following after Roy as the three headed out of his office and down the halls. “What are you talking about?"

“Well, follow me to the briefing room, and I'll show you."

****  


/////////////////////////////////

****  


The briefing room was nearly pitch black, as the sound of a slide projector whirring as it clicked sharply from slide to slide filled the air.

"As you can see by these surveillance photographs, we've been keeping track of the current head of the IRF,” The voice, belonging to Kain Fuery, said as the image clicked to the relevant slide, a rather grainy photograph of what looked like an Ishvalan man sitting at a café. “We had tracked him to a small café where he seemed to be waiting for someone. An hour passed, when who should appear but our mutual friend, Miss Bailey.”

As he said this, the slide changed to reveal The Ishvalan and Solaris sitting at the table, apparently speaking about something. “Obviously, the two have some sort of relationship, as they spoke for a good hour and a half more before getting up and leaving together. We tailed them for a few blocks before losing the pair. A quick dig through local hotels revealed Miss Bailey was in the town for a convention of some sort, but before we could question her, she left for Drachma."

"So you think she's in the IRF's pockets or something?" Ling asked, putting a hand over his eyes to block the light of the projector as he looked back at Fuery.

"Not just that, but we did some more digging, and found that she has a habit with meeting with and then seducing people with known ties to criminal and anti-government organizations. We think, and this is just theory, that she may be some sort of smuggler, or, at the very least, using her antiques business as a cover for illegal enterprises." Fuery responded.

Edward raised a hand. "Then why don't we just deal with it and take her out?"

"That's the thing,” Roy spoke up, leaning forwards slightly. “She's very good at keeping her hands clean. So far, all we have are some photos of her talking with them. We've traded notes with the Ishvalan agencies, but they've got the same problem. Outside of photos of meetings at café's and the like, there's nothing to link her directly to any illegal activities. At this point, it's merely circumstantial."

Fuery however, raised his hand, clicking through the slides again to show some documents. "However, it was enough for us to get access to her bank records, and the day after the gala at Focke's home, her business received a donation from an organization known as ‘The Enlightenment Fund’, a known front for money laundering for the IRF."

"So what does this all mean?" Edward asked, rubbing his temple slightly.

Roy gave him a smug grin. "It means that we now have enough evidence to justify sending someone in to investigate her directly. The wires picked up some communications about some sort of 'package' that she'd be picking up called 'Rabbit's Foot'. We think it might be the new weapon Focke was rumored to be developing, which is why we sent you to him in the first place."

"So, what you're saying is that Solaris is going to be smuggling in this 'Rabbit's Foot' thing, whatever it is, and giving it to the IRF? How do you know she's going to give it to the IRF?" Ling asked, looking at Roy with an unconvinced look.

"One Focke's fake charity bank account just had more than 150 million cens deposited into it,” Roy answered. “And take a guess who did the donation?"

"The Enlightenment Fund." Edward replied.

Roy smiled. "Exactly."

Edward nodded. "So the IRF paid Focke for the Rabbit's Foot, which is now going to be smuggled into the country under the disguise of Solaris' antique trading?"

"That's what we're going with. We just need to bug her place, and hopefully she'll slip up and reveal a drop off point or something." Fuery said, turning off the projector.

"I just wonder who would spend 150 million cen on something called a Rabbit's Foot." Ling muttered. “Sounds like a hokey charm or something.”

"Well, whatever it is, someone really wanted whatever Focke had. This guy builds advanced weapons for anyone. Considering the price tag, this is probably something very, very big." As he spoke, Roy stood up, walking over to the wall and flicking on the lights. "And you're going to be the one to find out what she has to gain."

Edward blinked, before shaking his head. "Why? I thought you were all angry that me and Ling for screwing up!"

Roy shrugged. "Simple. Solaris asked for you."

Both Ling and Edward gave Roy a shocked look.

"What?" They both asked in borderline perfect sync.

Roy shrugged again. "You heard me. Miss Bailey called this very building--or rather one of her secretaries did. Apparently, she had taken a shine to you, and wanted to know if she could see you. The secretary thought we were part of the whole organized crime alias we set up for you, so apparently, your cover wasn't blown," he walked over to the table and tossed one of the folders on it to Edward.

"Get on it, Fullmetal."

****  


////////////////////////////////

****  


Edward shifted on his feet slightly, giving his ever so tight bowtie a tug in what felt like the dozenth attempt to loosen it. He reached his finger to the doorbell, giving it a firm press, the somewhat brazen electronic buzzing coming inside muffled by the wooden door he stood in front of. He glanced towards the rather nondescript plaque that hung from the auburn brickwall of the building.

" _ **Bailey Antiques and Artworks**_ " it said in clean print. The files on Miss Bailey that Central had dug up seemingly backed up her story at the Gala. She was apparently Amestrian on her mother's side, with her father being an Ishvalan who had been visiting Amestris at the time. Other than that, though, information was vague, as Miss Bailey apparently held her privacy in very high regard. However, she apparently really wanted to speak with Edward. Or rather 'Aaron Dismuke'. A person who technically didn’t actually exist. To his knowledge at least. For all he knew there was an Aaron Dismuke who made watches in some small village or something. Heck, maybe even in Central--

His train of thought was halted by the sound of a clock striking five.

At the thought of time, Edward reached into his pocket and checked his watch. _Yup. 5:00. I gotta pick up Winry at seven. Gives me two hours,_ The watch clicked shut and he slid it back into his pocket and he gave the doorbell another press. _Plenty of time. Now just focus, and maybe you can bluff your way through this. Anyways, if she DID know I was a spy, she'd probably pack her bags and go...or it Might be a trap...maybe she saw me at the party after I blew my cover? I mean, I didn't see her in the crowd, but then again I wasn't exactly looking for her. Maybe she left? Didn't see me? What if--_

This time, his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the door unlocking followed and the door swung open to reveal a stale looking Ishvalan with glasses.

"Do you have an appointment with Miss Bailey?" he asked in a clipped voice, arching his eyebrow slightly.

_Just roll with it._ Edward thought as he shook his head slightly, producing the card that Bailey had given him.

"No, not officially, but Miss Bailey gave me a call, and I was in town, and figured it couldn't hurt to drop on in and speak with her again." he gave the butler a confident grin. "And she gave me this." He handed the business card to the secretary, who took the card and inspected it with a critical eye.

"I see. Well, I am her secretary. Do you have a name?"

Edward nodded slightly. "Dismuke. Aaron Dismuke. We met at Mr. Focke's gala a few days ago."

The secretary gave a barely perceptible nod, before stepping asides and motioning towards one of the chairs that sat in what was obviously the waiting room.

"Miss Bailey has many appointments and clients, so we ask that you wait here while we check to see if she is available. Won't be long."

With those words, the secretary turned and walked out of the room, stepping through a doorway and up to a phone that was attached to the wall. He dialed a number, speaking in what sounded like Ishvalan and in a low voice, glancing towards Edward very so often. Edward merely waived amiably, hiding the fact that he was attempting to listen in behind a smile. It was moments like this that he wished he actually _understood_ Ishvalan, and in hindsight, he really should have taken the classes when offered.

A few more hushed Ishvalan words were spoken, before the secretary hung up the phone and walked back into the waiting room.

“Miss Bailey will be seeing you now, please follow me.” The secretary motioned for Edward to follow, leading him through a room packed with dozens of various antiques, to another door, behind which, opening up like a ballroom, was a large, open room with white curtains hanging everywhere.

Scattered about, in various states of preservation, where what looked like a good dozen or so Ishvalans worked on the various antiques and items. Every so often, one would glance up from his work and give Edward a suspicious look, eyebrows lowering and ruby eyes tracking him. Edward kept his eyes head, but felt increasingly on edge. For an antique shop, everyone looked rather...militaristic.

“No, no, no! The color scheme on this pottery isn’t the proper shade of mauve! Ishvalan dyes are richer. Try again.”

The sharp, dominating voice made Edward raise his eyebrows, and the secretary came to a stop, motioning towards the tall woman who was now turning to face them. Edward instantly recognized Ms. Bailey’s pale skin and blood red lipstick, contrasting sharply with her raven hair, which was done up with a neat, tidy bun.

“Ah! Mr. Dismuke!” she practically cooed, gliding forwards and cupping his hand in hers. “I’m so marvellously happy to see you this fine afternoon. What brings you here?”

“Well Ms. Bailey,” Edward began, giving her hand a shake and feeling that same oddly pleasurable balmy feeling shimmer through him again. He cleared his throat slightly, quickly shifting his mind back on track. “It turns out you and I have business in Central, and since you were kind enough to offer that I stop by, I figured I’d take you up on that.”

Ms. Bailey let out a chuckle, a low, sensuously throaty sound. “Oh please, Aaron, call me Solaris. We needn’t be so formal. Come,” she beckoned with a gloved hand, “Let’s talk someplace a little more private.”

Edward gave a slight tip of the head as he followed after her, noticing how the stale Ishvalan who had greeted him was now tailing them, passing behind worktables about twenty or so feet away. Edward stood a little straighter, glancing towards Solaris before leaning forward slightly.

“Who’s our friend?” he asked in a whisper, motioning towards the Ishvalan who had been tracking them. Solaris turned her head, her expression hardening for a fraction of a second

before she spoke up. She barked an order in Ishvalan, and the man paused, before nodding and muttering an apology and heading back to the work tables.

“Just a worker. The problem with Ishvalans is that they need to hear something twice before they can actually understand what you’re trying to say.” Ed furrowed his brow slightly, but did not say anything. She lead up to a rather plain looking door, with her name inscribed in rather nondescript text.

“Let’s speak in my office, so we have some…” Edward noticed her eyes run up his body. “Privacy.”

With a smile that could only be described as predatory, she opened the door and beckoned him to step inside.

"Please, take a seat, Mr. Dismuke." Solaris asked as she beckoned for Edward to sit in one of the chairs that sat in front of her desk. Edward gave a slight nod. Once more, just like at the party, he felt a big warmer than usual. He glanced up at the ceiling fan, as he sat down, if only to make sure the extra warmth wasn't just a matter of the room being warm.

Meanwhile, Solaris had elegantly sat in the rather ornate office chair that loomed behind her back, leaning back ever so slightly as to push her chest out visibly. Edward felt his cheeks flush slightly, and quickly shunted his eyes to the wall, fixing them on a painting of some mountain range.

"Like what you see?" Solaris' silken voice inquired, and Edward nodded.

"Very nice painting, very nice."

_You're a married man Edward. Get yourself together and focus on the task at hand. Think of Winry._ He mentally chided, inhaling deeply before steeling himself and turning back to Solaris, making a point to keep his eyes focused on hers. Had they always been that shade of purple? Who had purple eyes? Edward bit the inside of his cheek, dismissing the thought and instead getting back to his cover story.

"Well, Miss Bailey--"

"Oh please. Solaris is preferred. After all, we've already been acquainted, so why continue the idle formalities?" She chuckled, her eyes doing the same borderline predatory inspection of his features.

Edward gave an ever so awkward nod of acknowledgement as he cleared his unexpectedly dry throat. "Well, like I said before, my employer wanted to decorate his home--"

"Mr. Dismuke, if I may be so bold," Solaris spoke, halting Edward mid sentence. "I must admit that I've done some, well, probing into your employer's work, and some curious things have arisen."

Edward's eyes widened slightly. "What kind of curious things?"

"Well, for one thing, your employer is one of your country's more, shall we say, _roguish_ businessmen." She gave him a catlike grin, her gloved fingers steepling. "So I take that he's not merely redecorating, but attempting to acquire some...assets?" the inflection on the last word made it feel far more lascivious then it would have sounded otherwise, regardless of context.

Edward felt his face freeze in what was probably a look more akin to a deer in headlights then a suave businessman, but he nodded anyways. _Have her lips always been that full?_

"Ye-*ahem*-Yes." he finally replied, just as he felt her foot skirt along the edge of his ankle, before trailing upwards a few inches and then pulling away. Edward made a point of shifting his feet away from hers, reaching into his pocket and fishing for the simple metal band Winry had made him to wear. Slipping it onto his finger, he rubbed a few times before continuing to speak.

"Well, then, I suppose the cat's out of the bag then?" he said, giving Solaris an inquisitive look. Solaris nodded.

"Indeed it is. Now, what does he _really_ want? He sounds like a small fish in a big pond to be honest. Trying to weed out those bigger ones?"

Edward shrugged slightly, using it as a mask for him scooting back in his chair slightly. The way Solaris kept eying him, coupled with the warmth of the room made him feel increasingly awkward by the second. The sooner he left this office and headed home to Winry, the happier he'd be.

"Yeah, that's an accurate statement," he finally said, "He'd love to speak you personally, but he'd like to keep these deals under the radar. Like you said: small fish, big pond. Don't want to be attracting those big ones unless we have a way to fight back, you know?"

_What on Earth did I just say????_ Was the first thought in his mind as he watched Solaris nod, placing a gloved finger on her chin.

"I understand you perfectly. How about this," she stood up unexpectedly, her deep purple dress clinging to her body as she glided over to sit on the front end of the desk, crossing her legs and looking down at Edward. "I'll provide you with whatever weapons you need," Edward felt a sense of relief flow through him. _Almost free!_

"-As long as you treat me to a nice, elegant evening alone where we can work out the finer details, and, I don't know, swap stories or something. Sound acceptable?"

Edward blinked. _Say **what.**_

"Well, Aaron," Solaris extended her hand towards him, almost as if she were expecting him to slip an engagement ring on it. "What do you say?"

Just as Edward was about to form a reply, the door swung open, and both Edward and Solaris looked towards the door to see, once more, the stale looking Ishvalan who had greeted Edward at the door. The look on Solaris' face could best be described as 'burning hatred of a thousand suns', but she cleared her throat anyways.

"Yes, _what is it?_ "

"I am very sorry to interupt, but there is a vital matter as to the next shipment I need to discuss with you in private."

Edward swore he heard Solaris grind her teeth together. She exhaled sharply, straightening herself out.

"Can't it _wait?_ "

"No ma'am. It cannot."

There was a pause, Edward's eyes sliding between the two, before he took a breath, looking up at the clock on the wall.

_Winry! I gotta take Winry out!!_

"I think I might be getting in the way of your work," he said, springing up out of the chair. He gave Solaris a quick shake. "Also, I just realized that my employer expects me to report back about this, and I can't keep him waiting. You understand, don't you Solaris?"

Solaris' eyes shunted towards his own, and she gave him another smile, one that was almost transparently fake.

"Of _course_ Aaron, where were my manners? You're free to go."

Edward gave her a welcoming smile, before spinning on his heels and heading out the door, giving the stale Ishvalan a 'Thank you' glance as he left. He could have sworn that the Ishvalan glared at him in response, but honestly Edward just wanted to get out of here. It was possibly the most awkward experience he'd had in quite some time, and the sooner it was over, and he was back at home, the better.

****  


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****  


The door clicked shut, and there was a brief, yet pregnant pause before the Ishvalan spun on his heels, a fiery shower of red sparks washing over him as his body shifted into a sharp featured, androgynous form.

“And why did you waste your time buttering him up?” Envy hissed, angrily leaning against Solaris’ desk. "Didn't you see him at the Gala falling through the floor like an utter buffoon?"

Solaris simply gave a glare in return, opening a drawer and taking a nail file out.

“Yes, but for all he knows, I didn't see him.” she busied herself running the fire along her nails, which grew visibly sharper and more claw like. “Anyways, it wouldn’t be fun if I just stabbed him right off the bat. I prefer to enjoy him, and extension myself, first.”

Envy rolled his eyes. “Oh please, we all know you enjoy both equally, you old hag.”

Solaris glanced at Envy from under her eyebrows. “Oh you wound me, Envy. That’s no way to talk to a lady.”

Envy let out a sharp snicker, before shaking his head. “Whatever. The point is, we’ve come this far. In case you didn’t remember, that little runt was the human who spotted me at Focke’s mansion. If he gets wise to what you’re doing--”

“He won’t, Envy, don’t be stupid. He’s a man. And I can handle men.” Solaris replied sharply, putting the nail file down and slinking back to the chair and sitting down, looking up at Envy from the chair. “Now, I do wonder if your meeting with Focke when well or not. Was the package delivered?”

Envy nodded. “Yes, yes, yes it was.”

“And Focke?”

“Won’t be telling a soul about any of this. Unless you consider fishes at the bottom of a lake ‘souls’,” he slipped off the desk and onto the balls of his feet, striding towards the door. “Which I don’t.” his hand gripped the knob. “Expect the package before the end of the week.”

“Where are you going? Tired of our chat already? Or do you enjoy interrupting me in the middle of meetings for these brief spats?” Solaris asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. Envy let out a grumbling, vaguely draconian hiss.

“I’m going to make sure that little blond pipsqueak doesn’t get to deliver whatever information he was so obviously scrounging for. You meanwhile, deal with these sweaty, stupid humans. Deal?”

Solaris sighed, leaning back in her chair slightly. “If you must do that, then bring him back alive,” she then smiled a malevolent, predatory grin. “I prefer to play with my prey before killing it.”

****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are.
> 
> I can't believe the last update was in March. Wow.
> 
> Anyways, I hope that the reasons for Ed returning to Solaris' establishment make at least a semblance of sense. I know that I do have plans to explain the contrivances, should there be any, but obviously I can't detail them here because, well, spoilers.
> 
> Anyways, I'm pretty much writing this more or less by the seat of my pants, just letting the story go where it will. The likelyhood of it being as close to the movie True Lies has gotten smaller, if only by warrant of me not seeing the movie in awhile, and also just wanting to avoid being a copy-paste affair. Go figure.
> 
> Anywho, hopefully this was worth the wait, to whomever is currently reading this (AO3 doesn't really give me good stats on those kind of things).
> 
> Do leave comments, and input, I do appreciate it, since I want to do the very best I can.


End file.
